


As a Three Dollar Bill

by Hittocere (JadeHittocere)



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Gin is Shinichi's new babysitter, Gin is clueless, Gin's not an asshole, I love writing this pairing, Kaito Kid plays a medic, Kaito and Shinichi try to help Gin, Kaito doesn't like seeing people hurt, M/M, Megure is a lovable idiot, Shinichi is the voice of reason, This is probably a tiny bit OOC, Why did you bring a murderer to my house?, not really - Freeform, the police are still useless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeHittocere/pseuds/Hittocere
Summary: In which Gin doesn’t remember everything, and he ends up stuck in Shinichi’s company the day after he poisoned him. This is after Kaitou kid recuses Gin who is supposed to be executed for some reason by the black org.Tags to be added.





	As a Three Dollar Bill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuroange1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroange1/gifts).



> It's still all your fault! Unlike keep the change I do think I will keep this one going. Also I think we managed to make a new tag on AO3
> 
> Notes for everyone else: Heavy leaning on criminal minds for anylasis, won’t fit with rest of story but will help gin temporarily.  

 

It comes as no surprise to Shinichi when the phantom thief sneaks into his family home one night, it's the circumstances. He’s crouched in the corner with his top hat tilted off to the side with a soft snore, he’s done this before… Once. It was the day he himself was shrunk, the day Kid had picked him up just as Ran had stumbled in looking for him. On a whim Kid had disguised himself as Shinichi and made a brief explanation that he was headed overseas to stay with his parents for the time being.  

He was then whisked to Kaitou Kid’s home, the Kuroba home where he had to explain the last few hours to the thief. His failed date at Tropical Land, the strange blond in all black, his portly associate, the murder case that didn’t involve them, and lastly the strange behavior that both of them had been showcasing leading him to follow the portly one. Kid graciously returned him to his own home, after a few minutes of chuckling over his newly acquired issue with the front gate and his own height.  

The phantom thief looked positively dead to the world, which was odd considering most of the time he was jumpy like puppy. Shinichi left him there to get himself a cup of coffee, then took the time to observe the thief. The bottom seams of his pristine white suit were coated in dirt, and there was the tiniest specks of blood along the cuff. Another dash of it was on the thief’s cheek, clearly whatever he was into was dangerous tonight, it wasn’t a heist, so what could it have been? The soles of his shoes had more mud than anything else. When he finally does wake Kid up its not with the nicest of tones.  

“What have you done now Kid San?”  

“I’m hiding,” the thief responds with his cheeks light up, “I may have rescued the guy that poisoned you?”  

“What.”  

  

Kid-   

  

He had been tracking the blond ever since he shrunk Kudou, so when he found the blond shot and dying in a pool of his own blood he had to do something. He first took the blond back to one of his medical safe houses, it took him and a close friend several hours to stabilize the blond’s wounds. The wound on his head wasn’t as bad as suspected, but it probably had caused a concussion at the very least. The bullet had glanced off his skull just leaving him with a nasty gash and with lots of blood.  

He stripped the blond of his bloody coat, and his gun. No need for any of them to be shot, he’ll put it somewhere for safekeeping. Kaitou knows he can’t leave the blond in his safe house, what if something was seriously wrong he needs to be watched in case something else has gone seriously wrong.  

The old man he relied on helped him to get the blond discretely to Kudou’s home, hopefully there they could get some answers. Find out what had been done to Kudou, to see if could be reversed. Right now this blond had the best chance of helping his friend. The two of them got him up to a room in Kudou’s home, probably Kudou’s own by the look of it.  

He feels guilty, this is Kudou's sanctuary not his own, but he can’t risk the world coming to know his true identity, not yet. Kudou can keep a watchful eye on the man, while he fancies himself a detective he’s a people watcher first and foremost.   

  

Gin-  

He wakes up groggy, his head spins, and the first thing he notices is that he wasn’t in his own room. Nor was it one of the organization’s safe houses, but what is the organization? He tries to reach for his pistol, why does he have a pistol? Why is that the first thing he reaches for? Why not water? Why not a newspaper or a clock?  

His searching hands find an empty holster, his eyes scan the room wearily. Would his gun be sitting on a nearby dresser? No, there is nothing there. His head pounds yet again, he grimaces, why does he hurt so much? His sides hurt like he’s been kicked, but he can’t move far enough to examine his sides. He aches, but it's bone deep, something is very wrong with him. His head pounds yet again, he looks to the side to see a bottle of water and generic aspirin, those who have him in their clutches be not enemies then. What are they? Who are they? A target for that lost gun, or someone to be shielded behind that weapon?  

He doesn’t know, all he knows is that his head hurts and someone has left him a gift that would help with the ache that causes him such pain.  

“What.” The voice is too loud in his ears, he winces, there’s a second voice, softer. He cannot hear exactly what was said, but it's male and young. The door opens with a soft creek and he hears them better.  

“What was I to do Tantei san? He was dying, and I would leave no man to that fate,” the voice is kind, it is low, it's the one from earlier that spoke softly.  

“No, but why did you bring him here?” The young voice is softer now. “He’s injured, what happened?”  

“I don’t know, questions are really not what my line of work specializes in if you must know Tantei San,” the white clad body is lean, and he finds that there is more to this teen than what his eyes can tell him.  

“Then why bring him here if you do not seek questions and answers to those questions?” The smallest one… He is no child. He's been cursed it appears, but by who’s hand?  

“I would not see any harmed in my path Tantei San, not even by a man who which deserves it,” the white clad teen frowns, “are you alright?”  

“I do not know,” the blond winces, “the aspirin?” The not child reads the label and provides him with both the water and medicine. He carefully places the pills on his tongue and swallows, it will be a time before it truly goes into effect.  

“What do you know, of how you got here?” the not child asks, “do you know who you are?” He has to think about that seriously, which of course makes his head throb. What he does remember is darkness, blood, and guns. People covered in either black or blood, there wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all.  

“There’s nothing. Just black and red. People covered in blood, people in black, darkness, the piercing light of muzzle flash in the dark occasionally,” he responds, “and the word Aniki, like I am someone’s older brother…” There’s a portly gentleman that comes to mind, but no name. No name for him, no name for the blonde that makes his skin tingle, and not in a good way. The rest is shadows.  

“Yea, I have a feeling I know who calls you that, but you neglected to name yourselves at the time I met you before,” the not child nods, “I would also say that the impression I got from you lead me to believe you a murderer to be frank.”  

“That would make sense, so then…” He watches the frown gather on the not child’s face.  

“There would be no records on you even if we did go to the police for help,” the not child confirms, “Kid San, you said you found him in worse shape than this. The forehead wound is clearly from a gunshot, what else did you find when you tended to his injuries?”  

“He’s got some nasty bruising around and on his ribs, I’d say nasty fall or a bad fight. My bet’s on fight, looks like a nasty stiletto spike at first thought, women’s size 9 if my guess is correct,” the white clad teen responds, “it's a wonder she didn’t puncture a lung. He’s not laboring to breathe, so I’m guessing it's just bruising to the exterior.”  

“My head hurts, I don’t feel anything besides that,” he responds, he doesn’t try to check his ribs, “I’d say I have a high tolerance for pain from everything else you’ve already said.”  

“So killer or special forces,”The not child comments, “I’m more inclined towards killer, no tattoos, no visible markings or identifiable marks. Tall, would you say built Kid?”  

“Very much so, with loads of hidden scars. Looks to be cuts and gunshot wounds mostly with some rough field work patching,” Kid comments, “all consistent with not liking doctors or having something to hide from them. There is evidence of some actual proper treatment, but I suspect it's a doctor within where ever the contracts are coming from.”  

“You assume he gets contracts and doesn’t do it for fun,” the not child comments.  

“You assume that he does this because he has a choice,” the teen counters, “who is to say he isn’t blackmailed? Or that there’s a driving motivator that led him to be who he was?”  

“I like guns? Does that help?” their conversation around him doesn’t help his headache. He doesn’t know who he is, but this is highly irritating, “I also seem to really dislike the psycho analysis.”   

“Not much of a surprise there,” the not child nods, “I still don’t know why you brought him here Kid.”  

“I brought him here because I believe that no one should get hurt, that includes you, whoever you are,” Kid as the teen is called, acknowledges him, “No one gets hurt Tantei San. They would have left him to die. I’m not okay with that, and I know you’re not.”  

“No, I’m not okay with it,” the not child answers, “I would never wish violence upon another living soul…” There’s an unspoken thought however that catches his attention. The little detective however would not hesitate to use force to prevent such violence unlike the white clad Kid.  

“Also Tantei San, he’ll probably appreciate the quiet here a lot more than the insanity of my house,” Kid points out. He doesn’t think the jump from violence was particularly smooth, but he appreciates the thought of some quiet while his head is pounding like it is.  

“Quiet sounds… Appealing. I do not recognize this place, should I?” the answer is a pair of shaking heads from both of them. The motion, even if it isn't him makes his head hurt.  

“I should hope you don’t,” the voice is a whisper from the detective.  

“If I am a killer as you hypothesis, then perhaps it is best that way,” he’ll concede that would probably make most people uneasy, but something else has caught his attention now, “My voice though… It sounds strange to me.” The detective looks at his face carefully examining it, then at his hands.  

“You’re a smoker,” the detective lifts his hand and points to his nails, “the discoloring on your teeth and the wrinkles around your mouth support this as well. I would also say you are left handed.”   

He searches his pockets and isn’t surprised by the contents he finds. There’s a half pack of cigarettes, an unmarked book of matches, and there’s a spare clip to whatever goes to his shoulder holster. He doesn’t hesitate in handing over the spare clip, he doesn’t need the two of them to think he’s going to kill them after what they’ve done for him.  

  

When the blond offers the clip he found before they can ask Shinichi realizes that he has nothing to worry about. He keeps the matchbook and cigarettes, which doesn’t surprise any of them, and Shinichi accepts it and realizes his hands are quite warm. The head wound seems to be doing a little better, he’s also noticed the bruising consistent with the fall that Kid mentioned. He hit the ground hard enough that there’s a bump on the side of his head along with the butterfly bandage.  

 “So… who are you?” the blond asks cautiously. The terror behind the man he met at the mystery coaster is barely there, it's down to a slight concern rather than full blown shit your pants terror.  

“Kudou Shinichi, Meitantei,” he responds calmly, “and you poisoned me into being a child less than a week ago.”  

“Kaitou Kid, Phantom Thief extraordinaire ,” Kid responds with a goofy smile, “we aren't really sure who you are, but Kudou San seems to think you are an assassin.”  

“That’s absurd enough,” the blond responds with a rough laugh, but looking back to his hands and then the empty holster, “but it seems like the obvious answer.” Shinichi nods, his eyes aren’t nearly as narrow as they were that night.  

“You are welcome to stay here so long as you do not kill anyone,” Shinichi offers, and the blond slowly nods.  

“That seems reasonable,” the blond responds, “I’m going to go back to sleep now. My headache is starting to ease a little.” The boys look at each other, this was the last thing they expected.  

  

  

He learns quickly that Kudou Shinichi is actually 17 not 7, and that surprises him almost as much as the fact it's this fault. Kaitou Kid stitches up the wound on his head, and it's surprisingly gentle and well done. The thief also brings him some clothes more his size since he’s been wearing the same clothes for three days, he turns down the white pieces, but he has a fondness for the dark ones. He’s taken up reading Kudou’s Sherlock Holmes novels while he recovers, his memories are still mostly gone. It's late at night when Megure Keibu of the Metropolitan police shows up. Kudou explained his relation to the police early on, it still seems odd that relied on a teenager to help them solve their cases.  

“I have a case,” he says surprised to see him, “is Kudou kun around?” He nods and wonders off to where the boy works on his class studies in isolation. He knocks on the door and the sharp blues turn his way.  

“Megure Keibu is here to see you,” he passes on, there is a deep frown that crosses his face, “something wrong Kudou San?”  

“Megure doesn’t know about my current condition,” the boy responds hopping off his chair to follow him downstairs.  

“Regardless he has a case for you,” he says, “and you’ve been looking for an excuse to get out of the house.”  

“Indeed,” Kudou responds, “you should come with, if I have to leave so should you.” It's an indigent childish noise coming from the normally overly mature shrunken teen. He escorts Kudou downstairs to Megure is standing uneasily next to the door. He sees Kudou and lets out a surprised gasp.  

“Shinichi Kun?” Megure questions.  

“It is very much me Megure Keibu,” he responds after a moment, “a minor mishap after our last case.”   

“Minor indeed,” Megure is still staring at him, the blond clears his throat, “who are you?”  

“He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t have an id,” Kudou answers, “he seems to answer to Kurosawa.”  

“Kurosawa huh? We could run your prints through the database and see if we can get your name that way,” Megure informs them, and he turns to Kudou with a worried look. Kudou nods to him, meaning he’s thinking something similar.  

“We don’t think he’s in your system, I’m assisting him the best I can from here,” Kudou responds, “someone tried to kill him before he ended up in my care, it’s probably best we don’t run his prints.”   

“That’s probably for the best then, we’ve got a murder we could use your help on,” Megure Keibu asks, and he finds himself looking to Kudou for some sort of sign that he’s actually accepting the case.  

“We’ll be with momentarily, Kurosawa San will be joining us,” Kudou nods, “it's best if I have someone with me. In this size I can hardly protect myself, and you cannot expect people to let a child wander a crime scene on their own.”  

“It’s true, at your current size most people would be hesitant to let you anywhere without someone with you,” Megure nods, “if someone did try to kill Kurosawa San it will be more difficult neck deep in officers.”  

  

Neither he nor Kudou Shinichi correct Megure Keibu about just how easy it would be to do so.   

  


End file.
